


The Dragon Children

by BloodyRose0753



Series: Dovah [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Fluff, Gen, mentions of causal murder, mentions of psychopathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-01-06 09:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12208557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyRose0753/pseuds/BloodyRose0753
Summary: First impressions of the Dragonborn with the children of Skyrim. And how the socially awkward Altmer Dovakiin managed to have six children following her around like duckling. Much to the horror of "True Nords".





	1. Sophie and the Archmage

**Author's Note:**

> I realized how lacking this fandom is with the cute family dianamics that could have been especially with the mod that allows for multiple adoptions. Oh and how lacking it is with any Altmer Dragonborn. But hey, there is now one more!

When Sophie first met Loramia, she was only trying to make enough money so that she wouldn't starve to death in the streets of Windhelm. The mer had that otherworldly beauty that Sophie usually associated with high elves. But she didn't look on with pity or disgust, that should have been the norm; instead the Elf only looked vaguely concerned.

“Why are you out here alone?”

Sophie startled at the accented calm and melodious tone as the brisk winter air shuddered against her petite frame. Looking up at Loramia, Sophie couldn't help but admire how unbothered the she-elf seemed by the cold weather, Loramia must’ve had a spell for it surely?

Biting her wind chapped lips Sophie stuttered through an explanation. By the divines the absence of her parents shouldn't still hurt this much. Feeling this way won't bring them back, she knows this but the feeling of longing won't leave. Why did they have to fight in this **stupid war**?! Why did they have to leave her _alone_ , especially when Windhelm isn't safe anymore.

Sophie’s hands clenched at the woven basket in her hands, not noticing the way her flowers seemed to combust into flames. But she did notice a sardonic eyebrow raise from the Mer before the sudden intensity of the flames was too much to ignore.

Yelping in pain, Sophie dropped the burning, smoking basket to the cobblestone ground. Hesitantly the young nord looked at the Mer in front of her, as the She-elf gently took her arm in her calloused hands.

The Arch-mage hummed softly, placing her hands, glowing with the soft gold of restoration magicka against the bloodied burned flesh of Sophie’s arm.

Voice still in its soft tones asked various questions ranging from what Sophie's favorite flower was. What her favorite food was, no sweet rolls aren't a food group. To more serious questions.

“I could adopt you if you would like.”

Sophie felt her heart stop at the statement. It wasn't a question, not by a long shot, but it was hope.

“Do you have a place for me to stay?”

Sophie hated how hesitant she sounded, was she really going to move in with a person who by all accounts could be a psychopath.

The She-elf just smiled indulgently at her. “Yes, I have a home in Markarth. If you want to live with me that is.”

Sophie bit her lip in consideration.

“Are… Are you sure?”

Sophie could feel hope rise up in her chest, maybe maybe this would be a good thing. The weather is probably warmer in Markarth, and the guards won't harass her for loitering around the gates. _(They threatened to send her to Honor Hall, Sophie shuddered dreading the thought, though she had heard rumors about the death of the old hag that ran the place)_. And maybe she could finally have a real home. Divines she wanted a real home.

“I'm sure…. daughter.”

Sophie gave the Arch-mage, no, _her mother_ , a blinding grin. A giddy happiness blossoming in her chest as she nodded excitedly. “I have to pack up some of my things, and I'll see you in Markarth!”

She was met with a severe frown and a shake of her head. Sophie flinched back a bit because new home or not you don't upset the Arch-Mage of Winterhold. The High elf paused before gentling her expression, glowing green eyes softening.

“How about you grab your things and say goodbye to your friends and meet me by the stables instead?”

Oh. Oh! Mama must've been worried about the roads with all of the recent dragon attacks. That makes sense.

With an exuberant nod Sophie took off down the narrow alleyways to her little hovel. A new home, away from this war hopefully too.

Gathering herself, Sophie packet the necklace that her father had made before he died. ‘ _Freedom_ ’ was the only word inscribed on the amulet.

‘Well’, Sophie thought bitterly, ‘I now have that.’

Sophie took one last look around her old home. Smiling as she turned and left that place that she fought tooth and nail to keep. Maybe, just maybe, she could be happy.

Running passed the Windhelm guards posted by the front gates she saw the Altmer, running her hand along the flank of the scariest horse Sophie had ever seen. The glowing red eyes the only really distinguishable trait about it. Other than it's height. The rest of the horse was pitch black, and it had shadows radiating along its hooves. The Altmer must have noticed Sophie's look because she moved silently around the horse to her.

“It's alright Sophie. Shadowmere will not hurt you. I promise you this.” Extending her hand Loramia waited for Sophie to make the first move.

Hand clenching the strap of her bag Sophie took a calming breath. Loramia wouldn't hurt her, Sophie knew this with the certainty that one would have of giants being dangerous or sabercats being fierce. It was something that Sophie felt _deep in her bones._ With that conviction Sophie grabbed Loramia’s hand in a white knuckles grip.

“Okay, I trust you Mama.”

The look on Loramia’s face was kind of funny, it was like no one had ever told the Arch-mage that they were trusted. The Altmer’s expression softened again. But this time her eyes flowed with affection? Sophie bit her lip as she was lifted from the ground and placed gently on the saddle of the monster horse.

Maybe Loramia just wanted a family too. Maybe no one had ever trusted her with such a thing. Sophie frowned hard when she felt the saddle shift behind her. And the black leather bracers of the Altmers armor braced Sophie against the sudden trot that Shadowmere had set.

With her mind set Sophie made her decision.

“I'm going to be the _best daughter ever._ I promise Mama.”


	2. Blaise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaise is confused by the Dragonborn but is quickly liking her.

When Blaise first saw Loramia, she was bartering over prices with Katla, she towered over the owner of the farm but had a casual grace about her.

He honestly didn't think that much about her, the Altmer didn't look like anything special except for her glowing eyes but that didn't bother him too much. Blaise shuffled about the farm tending to the animals as he thought about the coincidence, the Solitude guards seemed to have a fearful respect of the High Elf and not because she looked like a Thalmor.

Actually it looked like she didn't even _like_ the Thalmor, with the way she would sneer at the passing party. And they would sneer back, snarling some curses under their breath as they passed by.

Blaise was jarred from his thoughts when Katla called for him to take Loramia's horse. Turning to take a look at the horse the young Breton froze.

‘That's not a horse.’ Was his first thought followed by, ‘That's a monster.’

Having to crane his neck just to see the horse as its body blocked out the sunlight making the monster horse look even more intimidating. Taking a tentative step forward only to stop at the sound of hooves stomping lightly in warning.

“I'll take Shadowmere to the stables.” The She-elf gave a pointed look to Katla as she said this. Her dark eyebrows narrowed in a challenge, as her lips curled into a wolfish grin.

Katla huffed in annoyance, more than a little wary of the Altmer. Before nodding stiffly and trudging off to harvest some of the crops.

Blaise gaped quietly at Katla’s retreating back, as Loramia gently walked Shadowmere to the stables. Snapping to attention Blaise squeaked in alarm.

“Wait!”

Weirdly enough the She-elf paused, glowing eyes watching him intently. _By the eight, did he just say that out loud?_

Blaise felt his cheeks heat as the Altmer waited in an eerie silence for him to speak. Her head cocked to the side as she stood unnaturally still. _Like a wolf about to go in for the kill._ Her dark eyebrows furrowed as she continued to unintentionally unnerve the young Breton.

“Can you put your horse in the second stable?” Blaise gathered himself, _he needs to be brave, like his parents were. How come being brave is so hard though? He hates this war. It took away everything that he had._ “I-I need a place to sleep.”

Blaise hated how his voice caught, thick with repressed anger and disappointment and shame. _(Gods why is it like this? Katla never gave him time to grieve and the priests wouldn't let him into the temple to mourn his parents absence.Why does everyone expect him to move on? Why can't he be allowed to cry?_ **_Why did his parents have to die!)_**

He was jolted from his musings as a gloved hand was hesitantly placed on his shoulder. Blaise jerked his head up to stare at the tall elf, before he realized that he might snap his neck trying to see her face while being this close to the Altmer. _(Why are they so tall? He has yet to meet a person who could explain it. All of the Thalmor just say ‘superior breeding, human. Now run along’. Whatever that means.)_ Stepping back a bit to properly look at the She-elf, Blaise gnawed on his lower lip, waiting for the judgement that always came.

It _always_ came. This time would be different, the young Breton jutted out his chin in defiance, _something he would have never done previously_ , and stared back into the glowing green eyes of the High Elf. _Daring_ her to pity him. Instead Loramia just knelt in front of him, her posture relaxing as her monster horse shook out its mane.

She looked at him with her glowing eyes, almost like she was looking through him and into his very soul.

“How did your parents die.”

Openly staring at the gold elf in incredulous shock, because while he may have been getting pitying looks no one has actually come out and asked that question. Granted she said it as a statement not a question. _(What is wrong with this elf?)_

Taking his shocked silence as a negative; as in his parents were still alive and you just crossed a boundary, you crazy elf. Loramia started back pedaling.

Hard.

Stammering through a botchy explanation in dawning horror because divines take her, she's just making this worse as unwanted tears pooled in the human boys eyes. _And please don't cry! I'm so sorry!_ Before she got an arm full of a crying child.

Pausing in her stilted rambling, as she sat back on her haunches listening. Hesitantly carding her fingers through his dark autumn colored hair. As his sobbing breaths hitched in tempo, against her sternum and tears dampened the red leather of her armor.

Blaise stuttered through his story taking gasping silences as he tried to collect himself. By the time he got to Katla and his sleeping arrangements, the elf was absentmindedly playing with the strands of his shaggy hair. Blaise felt himself relax for the first time since getting the news, feeling so worn out that he almost missed the Altmers question.

“If you want I could adopt you.”

 _Well, statement._ Blaise absently thought in the safety of his mind, _Does Loramia even know what a question is?_

Blaise tightened the hold his fingers had on the back of her black leather armor. _What did he really have here? Old memories of cold nights of not being allowed to mourn his parents. Of how this war stripped away everything he once held dear?_

Pursing his lips Blaise nodded against the sodden shoulder. His voice raspy from his tears his breath hitching around a word. “Really?”

Blaise felt more that saw Loramia nodding against his shoulder. Twining his fingers through her waist length ebony hair, Blaise nodded. “Okay, _okay_.” Breathing through his nose he continued his voice in a hushed whisper. “Do you have a place for me to stay?”

“I own a house in Markarth.” Loramia's voice was soft almost like if she spoke too loud he would bolt. ~~ _It reminded him of his mother._ ~~ Nodding his head, he gave her one last squeeze before pulling away.

“Thank you so much Ma! I'm just going to collect my things. I'll meet you at home!”

He was met with a sigh, flinching at the meaning he opened his mouth about to ask if she was _really_ sure.

“How about you collect your things, and meet me by Shadowmere. We’ll go to Markarth together.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Blaise wanted to smack himself, with all of the bandits and dragons about no wonder Loramia wanted to keep a close eye on him. Smiling at the High Elf, Blaise gave a quick nod and bounded over to the farm house.

_This wasn't him forgetting his parents, never. But maybe this is what healing is like? Maybe he can have a real family again._

Being hoisted onto the saddle with his bag of mementos, Blaise clenched at the arm bracing him as the monster-no- as Shadowmere took off away from Katla’s farm.

Leaning back against Loramia, the Breton came to an epiphany.

_Maybe Loramia lost someone too. Maybe she needs me just as much as I need her._

Smiling softly Blaise came to a decision.

“You won't regret this Ma, I promise!”


	3. Lucia and the Haarbinger

The day started off as bleak and sodden as expected during a storm in Whiterun. Lucia could feel the harsh rain beating deliberately against the thin fabric of her dress as she curled protectively against the bark of the Gildergleam. Absently listening as the priest of Talos continued his long winded speech. (You kind of have to admire that commitment). 

 

Her clothes sticking to her like a second skin as a frigid breeze knocked against her side and burrowed into her bones. Lucia watched in fascinated trepidation as the tips of her fingers slowly began to turn blue. Shakingly the girl wrapped her arms around herself in an effort it keep warm. 

 

_ Maybe it’ll be fine. But I’m so  _ **_tired_ ** _. I’ll just sleep for a bit.  _

 

Lucia’s breath stuttered as the chill crept in sinking its claws into her. Gaining a foothold as the feeling spread out, branching into her very soul. Watching listlessly as the rain beat down through the vibrant  leaves of the Gildergleam. Lucia was left with a final thought as she slipped into the darkness.

 

‘ _ It’s so pretty.’ _

 

When she awoke it was to the warmth of a fire crackling softly and a thick blanket covering her form as she slowly came back to herself. Lucia snuggled down into the plush warmth of the bed trying to ignore the hushed growling coming from the door. 

 

“ **What. Were. You. Thinking. Loramia** !”

 

“Shut up Vilkas; you’re going to wake her.” 

 

Where was she, the last thing she remembered was sitting under the Gildergleam and that she was cold. Now she’s warm and while her head still feels a little stuffy it’s not like she’s freezing to death. 

 

**_Freezing to death._ **

 

“You kidnapped a child in front of Heimskr!  _ Heimskr!  _ You just picked the whelp up and took her in front of the most self-righteous zealot in Whiterun!” 

 

“I didn’t kidnap her.” 

 

Bolting up right Lucia actually took in where she was. The four poster bed with deep olive sheets that she had swaddled around her along with a new change of clothes. Not the dress that was fraying at the seams but a new one that looked like velvet? 

 

The stocked fireplace roaring with flames, as the heat licked at her face and warmed her to her core. Gulping down her nerves Lucia crept out of the protective heat of the bed and to dry clothes. 

 

“Yes! You did! Now he thinks he’s  **justified** in petitioning the Jarl to have you thrown out!” 

 

There was a derisive snort, before:

 

“How many people signed the petition.” 

 

Looking around the room Lucia wonders over to the bookshelf idly browsing through some of the titles. (Most of which were darn near impossible to read). Before stopping at the  _ Yellow Book of Riddles. _

 

‘ _ That sounds promising.’ _

 

Cracking open the book Lucia settled against the soft plushness of the bed. She felt full for the first time in a while as she started to read. The argument outside the door seemed to wage on as the crackling fire was the only disturbance in the room. 

 

“What?” 

 

“How many people signed the petition.”

 

Lucia smothered a giggle as she eavesdropped on the conversation happening right outside the door, as she tried to focus on the book in front of her. But with the bored drawl of (Loramia?) the woman whose blase attitude seemed to grate on the man’s nerves more than her actions did. 

 

Lucia felt the vibrations coming from the celebration upstairs as the ceiling shook with the pounding of feet against the wood. As cheering broke out among the patrons as something happened causing the candle chandelier to sway precariously just shy of lighting the bookcase on fire. 

 

_ ‘Oh, no. Please don’t set the bookshelf on fire. Please don’t set the bookshelf on fire!’ _

 

Cringing as the candle flickered briefly as its perch swung away from the flammable material. Lucia drew in a much needed breath of relief, closing her eyes and collapsing back onto the bed. As nothing was set a flame, yet. 

 

“So far it’s just Heimskr and Nazir, but that doesn't change the fact that people have begun to take his words seriously. And it certainly doesn’t help matters that you were a Thalmor.”

 

“Ah. Well, that does explain somethings now doesn’t it? It’s going to be fine Vilkas, trust me.” 

 

Lucia froze, biting her lip in thought. 

 

_ ‘my savior was a Thalmor?’  _

 

Looking around the room trying to find anything that screamed **Evil Elvin Overlord** , but all that she saw was a room with a fireplace and books that ranged from  _ The WolfQueen  _ to  _ Kolb and The Dragon.  _ The faint sound of howling broke through the stagnate crackling of the fire place as the orphan girl thought. 

 

“Its honestly a little doubtful that Heimskr is actually going to be able to do anything, considering that his most avid supporters would have been the Greymane’s.” 

 

“Considering you wiped out a Thalmor base by yourself, I’m not surprised that you have their support.” 

 

The woman let out a soft hum in agreement, Lucia heard the rhythmic tapping of knuckles against her door. Before the heavy wooden door opened softly, and a head peered inside. 

 

Lucia caught herself as the Altmer gently made her way inside the room, moving so quietly it was almost like she wasn’t even there. Swallowing Lucia clenched her hands in a fist to stop it from shaking as she vigilantly watched the She-elf make her ways her. The She-elf cocked her head stopping abruptly as she cocked her head to the side silently watching the girl. Her glowing green eyes absorbing every minute detail of the child. 

 

Stealing her nerves Lucia had to know. 

 

“Why did you kidnap me?” 

 

The mers expression shifted a little as if she was annoyed by calling a kidnapping a kidnapping. Sighing the Mer ran her gloved fingers through her long black hair. 

 

“I didn’t kidnap you.”

 

“I’m pretty sure you did.” 

 

The Altmer gave the girl a dry look as her hands flicked away wayward drops of water. 

 

“You were going to die under the Gildergleam, because no one wanted to help shelter you from the storm.” The High Elf scrutinized Lucia a bit more. “Why were you out there in the pouring rain. Where are your parents.” 

 

Lucia stiffened as she brought her arms around herself. Biting on her lip until it bled as unwanted tears pooled in her eyes. Gods the elf wasn’t even asking. Does she even know what a question is? 

 

_ She knew crying wouldn’t bring them back. She knew that there was nothing she could do to bring them back. Necromancy has its limits and even then they wouldn’t be the people she knew and loved they would be shells of themselves, empty husks of putrid filth. She wasn’t allowed into Kyneraths Temple to grieve either, and when she thought that she could finally move on something would always remind her of them. Of her Papa’s gruff hair ruffles or the way her mother would sing softly to her. Not to mention how nasty the other kids are because her aunt kicked her out.  _

 

Lucia didn’t realize that she was sobbing until she was being cradled in the arms of the Altmer. Gods how long has it been since she had been held? Lucia didn’t hesitate she latched onto the Altmer hands gripping the back of the black and green leather armor as her small fists grasped the long black strands as she smothered her sobs into Loramia’s shoulder. 

 

Lucia didn’t know how long it took for her sobs to calm, only that Loramia stayed with her throughout it all. Running her gloved hands through Lucia’s damp hair, humming out strange sad notes, that seemed loosely connected. The humming stopped for a bit before Loramia gently shifted the girl in her lap. 

 

“I could adopt you, if you would like.” 

 

Lucia snorted at the Altmer, before raising her eyes to meet the serious glowing ones of her savior. Lucia’s eyes widened in shock as she processed that Loramia was in fact serious. Should she say yes? Would she have an actual home if she did say yes? Gods she really wanted to say yes. 

 

Hesitantly Lucia looked at the Altmer fiddling with the ridiculously long locks of hair that just sort of fell down Loramia’s back. 

 

“Do you have a place for me to stay?” Lucia would never admit how her voice cracked at the end of the question or admit to how much she hoped that the High Elf wasn’t just playing some cruel game with the pathetic human. 

 

But the soft look and gentle words she got in return made her want to trust this strange Mer. 

 

“I have a house in Markarth.”

 

Lucia felt the beginning of hope spread through her praying to  _ every  _ god she knew of that this wasn’t a dream, that this was real and was actually happening. 

 

“Are-Are you sure about this?”

 

Lucia crossed her arms to hide the trembles wracking her frame. She didn’t want this to be taken away from her like everything else was. 

 

“I’m sure, Daughter.” 

 

Lucia grinned so hard that her cheeks were starting to hurt. “I promise I’m going to be the best daughter ever! Just let me grab a few of my things and I’ll meet you at home.” 

 

At Loramia’s baffled expression Lucia felt a little of the hope die.  _ Did she change her mind? Was she no longer worth the trouble? Oh Divines what is she supposed to do now? _

 

“How about you bring your things here and we’ll head out to Markarth together when the weather clears up?” 

 

Oh. 

 

Ooohhh. 

 

Right, Loramia did just safe her from dying, no wonder she wants to make sure that Lucia makes it to her new home safely.

 

Lucia smiled at her and nodded in agreement. 

 

She was going to be the _best daughter ever_ , for her Mama. 


	4. Aleson; And Why Loramia's Children are Better People than Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawnstar, Everyone hates Dawnstar. Even the fish.

Aleson knew that when the ship that abandoned his father and him on this frozen block of ice in the middle of nowhere, that things had gone from bad to worse. With his father coughing up blood forcing Aleson to provide food shelter and warmth he knew that his Pa didn’t have long left in this world. He just prayed that Mara would give him a few more days, and she did. 

 

Then the nightmares started.  

 

Those last few days of his were spent in constant agony and his rest was littered with his screams so loud that they echoed into Aleson’s own. As Pa’s breathing worsened and the waking dreams took over Aleson saw that his Pa couldn’t even recognize him. When his Pa couldn’t hold on to life any longer Aleson prayed that his soul was in Sovrenguard. Aleson hoped that with his Pa’s death, the only person who cared about him on this frozen tundra, that the nightmares would  _ finally stop _ . 

 

They didn’t. If anything they just got worse. Now with no one with him and just the clothes on his back he had to do something. It’s not like he was living in Riften or even Solitude. He was in Dawnstar.

 

_ Dawnstar. _

 

All Dawnstar had was snow, rocks and an almost frozen lake that even the fish stayed away from. You know something is wrong when the fish abandon your town. Oh and it was a town cursed by constant nightmares. 

 

_ Such a great place to set up roots.  _

 

Aleson sighed as he grasped the hot pot of soup in his hands as he sprinted away from the Inn to the Mines. The weather took a sharp turn as snow howled in the endless wind as the bitter cold set in along his back. He ignored the sharp eyes drilling into his back as he ran across the snow. His pants legs were getting so wet and cold that he prayed for the day to end quickly. It was going to be a bad night he just knew it. 

 

His arms were shaking from holding the steaming pot while the sun began to set and the cold became too much to ignore. Shivering as the miners began to demand more food than he had. Shaking his head Aleson tried to tell them that this was all that they could have. 

 

With the lack of sleep getting to everyone and making them  _ mean.  _ Aleson flinched as one of the miners bashed the pot out of his hands before grabbing him by the front of his tunic. 

 

The man was yelling, angry that his hands were shaking so much from the lack of a decent night's rest. And all Aleson could do was listen trying to reign in his own fraying temper. 

 

Gods, it’s not like he was the only one suffering at least he had an actual  _ bed _ . Depending on the night Aleson would have to sleep outside.  _ In the snow.  _

 

Aleson shrugged off the miner, picked up the rapidly cooling pot and began his race back to the in and out of the perpetual blizzard the Dawnstar always seemed to be in. 

 

_ Why anyone thought it was a good place must have been out of their minds!  _

 

Snorting at the thought Aleson sighed. He was going mad, this town was making mad. Gods how he wished that Thoring would give him something other than milk. 

 

Pausing in his run back to Windpeak Inn, Aleson noticed the priest of Mara that came into town a little while ago being trailed by a rather imposing High Elf that just seemed to  _ glide _ . 

 

For the first time since his Pa died, Aleson prayed. 

 

When night came, Aleson worried his lip between his teeth hesitant about sleeping and by the looks of everyone else in the Inn he wasn’t the only one. Curling up by the fire he jolted when the door to the Inn blew open. 

 

Oh, no was he having a waking dream that plagued his Pa’s final days. Was he going to die? Head whipping towards the door he saw the imposing figure of the Altmer. Her armor was singed around her chest like she took a fireball there instead of ducking. Her black gloves had specks of red on them but no open wounds. And that wicked black dagger that seemed to pulse ominously with dark energy was dripping blood onto the wooden floors of the Inn. 

 

Aleson tried to make himself seem as small as possible, as his mind whirled.

 

_ By the eight! Did she just fight her way through an invasion force? _

 

The Altmer sighed before taking a hand through her long ebony hair.  _ How is having hair that long practical? It just gets wet in the snow and makes you even colder.  _ Before making her way towards the bar stool and ordering a drink. 

 

Thoring is the only person in the Inn willing to broach the subject with the scary elf. 

 

“Is it done?” 

 

The elf just gives an affirming hum. 

 

“The nightmares won’t return?”, Thoring presses. 

 

The elf give another hum. 

 

“Where’s that priest?” 

 

The Altmers lip press into a thin line, “Sacrifices had to be made to make sure that your nightmares wouldn’t return. Mara may be a nice goddess but even she demands payment.” 

 

Thoring stares at the elf in shock. His hand trembled as he began polishing a spare mug. His voice cracking on his word. 

 

“O-oh?”

 

The elf glared at the sleek table top in front of her. “There was an invasion force of Orcs were the nightmares resided, we had to fight our way through.’ The Altmer paused eyes narrowing as her hand clenched the metal mug ina death grip. ‘One slipped past me and slit his throat at the end of his ritual to cleanse your town.” 

 

The Altmer turned around pinning all of the patrons in the room with a burning gaze. 

 

“Don’t let his sacrifice be for nothing.” 

 

Thoring gives her a determined nod before clasping the high elf on her shoulder. “Mara bless you, Loramia.”  

 

Loramia gave him a pained smile before she stood abruptly, tossing a few gold septums on the table before leaving the Inn. The silence that settled over everyone was profound in every way.

 

And Aleson stared at were the Altmer ( _ Loramia _ ) left biting his lip. She looked upset over the priests death even though it wasn’t her fault. 

 

Uncurling from his position on the floor Aleson decided he was going to help Loramia. After all she helped him by helping dawnstar. 

 

Grinning with a new found resolve, Aleson made his way into the vicious winds of Dawnstar. Looking for the tall she-elf, Aleson shivered forgetting his long sleeves in the Inn. Searching for any sign of the elf, he didn’t notice a thick black cloak being draped over his shoulders. Before he abruptly turned around, seeing the Altmer with just light armor that looked less imposing now that the cloak had been removed. 

 

Loramia cocked her head to the side as she scrutinized him. From his scruffy appearance to his clothes that needed mending. Her glowing eyes tracked where all of the adults were before her lips pressed into an unhappy line. 

 

“Where are your parents.” 

 

Feeling like the air just got punched out of his lungs Aleson closed his eyes biting his bottom lip trying to suppress his need to cry.  _ Crying doesn’t put food in his belly. Crying doesn’t give him a warm place to sleep crying does nothing. Gods he’s usually not this emotional, he really needs a night of uninterrupted sleep.  _ Before he knows it, he’s spilling his heart out to a complete stranger. Stuttering though the loss of his Pa that still hurts, ‘cause he see things everyday and he  _ still  _ turns to look for him even though he  _ knows  _ he won’t be there. 

 

And he blames not sleeping, because there is  **no way** , that he’d throw himself into the arms of a  _ stranger  _  just to cry. Instead all that happens is the surprisingly warm fingers runs through the hairs at the nape of his neck. And the soothing hum of a distant song that gently slips him to sleep. 

 

When Aleson wakes it’s from the best sleep he’s had in weeks! He wakes slowly, stretching out his limbs in a way that he usually doesn’t have time for. And instead of the cold unforgiving planks of wood giving him splinters all he feels is the soft dense furs of the bed underneath him. Freezing as his mind catches up, he’s supposed to be running food and supplies right now.  _ Thoring is going to kill me! _ Bolting upright he barely notices the food sitting by the bed, still warm but way too much to be for him. And now he’s late! He’ll be lucky if he even gets any food for the rest of the week!

 

In his panicked state he didn’t notice the door to the room slpi open before a calm voice called out to him. “How are you feeling?” 

 

Whipping his head to the source, Aleson calmed down a bit noticing the glowing eyes and relaxed posture Loramia. Scratching the back of his neck nervously, Aleson smiled awkwardly at her. 

 

“Um. Good? I guess?” 

 

Loramia raised an eyebrow at him in dry amusement? “You guess? You’re not sure?” 

 

“I think I might be late for my job. And I’m not entirely sure what to do about that.” 

 

The She-elf nodded at Aleson’s word before a frown marred her features. 

 

“I asked you a question last night though, I’m not sure you were awake for it.” Aleson cringed a little praying she wasn’t going ask about his Pa again once was enough and even then it was difficult to talk about with waking dreams coming in at random times. “If you want I could adopt you.” 

 

Freezing Aleson looked at the Altmer, trying to gauge if she was serious or not. He didn’t think he could handle another cruel joke that the miners liked to play on him. Loramia’s eyes were steady with a resolve in them that Aleson had never seen before. It was like she meant it, like she was honestly interested in taking him in as her own. Aleson’s hands trembled as he played with the fraying fabric of his tunic. This could be his chance. His chance to get out of Dawnstar and its blizzards and its rocks and its nightmares! 

 

Biting his lip he stared at Loramia. “Do you have a place for me to stay?” 

 

The tension that was in Loramia’s shoulder vanished as she nodded to him. “I have a house in Markarth.” 

 

Giving her a hesitant smile Aleson nodded back to her, feeling a lightness that he hadn’t felt since his Pa passed. It felt good. His smile grew until his cheeks started to hurt, “Let me grab my things and say bye to everyone! I’ll meet you at home!”  

 

Loramia let out a pained noise, before she pinched her eyes shut. He’s seen Thoring do that when he was exasperated with Karita. Flinching back Aleson prepared himself to ask whether this was something that she  _ truly  _ wanted to do. But before he could his Ma raised a hand to forestall any arguments. 

 

“Why don’t you get your things and say goodbye to everyone then  **meet** me by Shadowmere? We’ll head to Markarth together.” 

 

Oh. 

 

That was the reason for her sounding like an injured cat. 

 

The roads are pretty dangerous around these parts with the dragon attacks and Giant attacks going on. Yea, he wouldn’t trust a kid to make it to Markarth either. Grinning as he nodded firmly and a little excitedly he took off to gather the little mementos that he saved from his Pa. His heart fluttered in his chest as he felt something that scarily resembled hope. 

 

When he gathered everything in a little napsack that Thoring gave him a while back for doing a good job. He ran to the stables and could have sworn he was in a waking nightmare just by looking at that horse alone. Along with a skull staff threaded through the back of the saddle its empty sockets staring at him. Before he noticed Loramia, Who smiled gently at him before offering him her hand. 

 

“Shadowmere won’t hurt you Aleson. I promise you.”

 

It was almost as if the monster horse understood, because it sent a baleful look towards the Altmer before stepping its way towards him. Aleson held out a trembling hand as the monster horse nudged his hand. Nodding Aleson gently stroked the nose of Shadowmere. 

 

“I trust you Ma. I know you won’t let anything hurt me.” 

 

Loramia’s breath hitched and Shadowmere shook out his mane and started stepping in place like he was laughing at the normally stoic Altmer. When he was on Shadowmere Aleson realized something. 

 

Maybe, just maybe, Ma lost someone important to her too. Maybe she needed him just as much as he needed her. Leaning back into seemingly encompassing heat Aleson made his decision. 

 

**_I promise I’m gonna be the best son ever!_ **


	5. Runa and an Unfortunate Arch-Mage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loramia, may have bitten off more than she can chew with Runa. And the other orphans know it.

Runa  _ hated  _ Honorhall. It was a nasty horrible place, with a nasty horrible Matron, who was  _ mean  _ and just  _ horrible.  _

 

Grelod the Kind. Runa shudders at the thought of that evil harpy ever being  _ kind.  _ Runa would bet her  _ soul _ to a Daedric Prince that the old hag was  _ born evil!  _ So when she is stuck doing the chores, again, she makes sure to wear some nice leather under her dress against her back and legs. Because it will be a cold day in  _ hell _ , before she gets struck by that thin leather strap that soars through the air and breaks the skin on impact. 

 

So, when she sees a ripple in the spot where Aventus used to sleep, she ignores it. In fact, when Grelod is talking about punishments Runa stares intently at the bed frame of Aventus‘ bed. And when she hears Grelod gurgling and choking on her own blood as the old hag collapses under herself clawing at the wooden posts; only then does Runa look at her seeing an empty space shimmering behind where Grelod was standing. Smiling and looking down at the old woman desperately clinging to life, Runa just tsked in annoyance. 

 

“I  _ just cleaned that floor.  _ Your being  _ rude  _ Miss Grelod.” 

 

Stretching her arms up as the boys stared at her in shock. Which was weird because it wasn’t like  _ she  _ killed the stupid hag, it just meant that Aventus completed the Dark Sacrament. Before looking at them and raising a blonde eyebrow at them. Asking a silent ‘ _ What?’  _

 

Unsurprisingly the boys shuffle around, going back to what they were doing only this time they keep sneaking glances her way. Rolling her eyes, Runa stood up from her bed stepping over the still warm body and the pool of blood,  _ honestly Grelod has no respect for hard work,  _ sneering at the bloody mess Runa turned to face Miss Constance’s room. Biting the inside of her cheek till she felt the sting of tears in her eyes, Runa counted to three. 

 

One. 

 

She could do this. She could cry for an old woman who she despised. 

 

Two. 

 

No, wait she couldn’t. She  _ really couldn’t _ . Well, shit. Sighing and pinching the skin on her thigh, Runa bit back a yelp. 

 

Three. 

 

Shit, she didn’t even cry when she found out that her parents died. How the hell is she supposed to make this believable? 

 

Feeling tears make tracks down her face as she pinched the skin of her thigh even harder. Before making a hiccuping sob. Pounding her fist against the door trying to make it sound frantic. She waited until Miss Constance opened up. 

 

Blurily looking around It took Miss Constance a moment to see her. 

 

“Runa?” 

 

Letting out another sob, Runa barreled into Miss Constance. 

 

“It’s Miss Grelod!” Runa took a deep breath, “Someone  _ killed  _ her!” 

 

That seemed to get Miss Constance moving. In fact she bolted from Runa to where Grelod’s body laid cooling in the middle of the floor. 

 

Miss Constance froze, her hands trembling in open shock as she stared at the lifeless corpse in the middle of the bedroom. 

 

“Oh Divines…” 

 

Miss Constance let out a sob, her trembling hands covering her mouth. Runa rolled her eyes so hard she would have sworn that they rolled right out of her skull. 

 

“Children!”

 

Runa cocked her head boredly at Miss Constance, who was facing the boys. She seemed to be counting them and as she turned to Runa. Runa cursed silently before starting to cry again. 

 

“Runa! Get the guards! We have to report this!” 

 

Biting her lip Runa nodded, honestly happy to have to avoid talking about the dead old crone. And there was something that Mister Brynjolf had said once, plausible deniability. 

 

Runa still didn’t  _ exactly know  _ what that meant, but she could guess. 

 

Opening the front door and out to the open air, Runa smothered her giggles. They were  _ finally free!  _ And it was all thanks to Aventus. She hoped she would see him again. 

 

Running through the market, eyes peeled for the guards wearing the Stormcloak armor, Runa bumped into someone. Head craning up her first thought was:  _ Wow he’s tall.  _ Looking up and noticing the curves and long impractical black locks that flowed in the breeze, Runa amended her thought:  _ Wow, she’s tall. _

 

A dark eyebrow raised in a silent question. And Runa came back to herself. Right, Grelod. Biting her lip Runa rushes through a choppy explanation, realizing that she’s probably going to have to be doing this for a while still. 

 

“Do you know where the guards are?” 

 

The quiet Altmer raised an eyebrow and pointed behind the little nord. Jerking her head around Runa stared at the guard walking towards them.

 

The guard took one look at them before a defeated posture took over his stride. 

 

“Yes my thane, What is it that you need?” 

 

The Altmer, who is the Thane, looked at the guard giving him a smile full of teeth. “I don’t need anything.” Watching as his posture relaxed the High Elf continued. “However,” Runa actually had to smother another giggle as the guard tensed and swore colorfully. “This child seems to need some assistance, if you don’t mind.” 

 

Freezing slightly, Runa collected herself and looked at up at the guard with big glassy eyes. 

 

“You have to come to Honorhall! Someone killed Grelod the Kind!” Letting out a hiccuping sob Runa continued, “and now we don’t know what to do!” 

 

The guard let out a low whistle, “Someone actually killed the old bat?” Before feeling the heated glare of his Thane. “I mean, that’s just horrible.” Clearing his throat the guard continued, “I should check it out right away?” Looking at the Altmer the guard nodded to himself, “Right away. Come along kid we should probably get you back. Have a nice day, my Thane.” 

 

After that Runa didn’t get to see the Altmer for a while. In fact, it wasn’t until months after Constance sent out those adoption letters that Runa saw her again. 

 

She was listening intently as the Altmer ( _ Loramia _ ), was questioned by Constance. If anything Constance was determined to make sure they went to happy homes. 

 

“If you’re not going to take this seriously-‘ Constance was cut off with a dull  _ thunk  _ on the wooden table. There was a soft gasp before an almost reverent, “By the Divines… you’re  _ really her!  _ Arch-mage. Yes, of course you can adopt a child! They are in the other room just go through that door.” 

 

Looking up at the High Elf that entered the room Runa couldn’t help the hope that blossomed in her chest. Alright, she can do this.  _ She is the best _ .  _ She can do this!  _

 

Mentally going through what she would say.  _ Put the boys down gently by highlighting my skills. I am the fastest, most adaptable, and strongest of this bunch. And I am the perfect fit for the Arch-mage of Winterhold.  _

 

When the Altmer gets to her, Runa feels a rush like she never had before. She knew without a doubt that she would take out her competition  **anyway** she could. 

 

Getting through her speech, Runa stared pleadingly up at Loramia. 

 

“ _ Please, please, please. Don’t leave me here!”  _ Feeling the pinprick of tears, ( _ Runa’s gotten better at crying on command) _ Runa let her bottom lip wobble and could see the moment that Loramia broke. 

 

There was a hesitant pause like the Altmer was thinking it over. And Runa was sure for a second that she was caught. Before the glowing eyes of Loramia, met hers. 

 

“If you want, I could adopt you?” 

 

The High Elf sounded hesitant, like she was honestly considering just walking out the front door and never coming back. 

 

Runa wouldn’t let her. 

 

“Really? Do you have a place for me to stay?” 

 

Loramia nodded her face a careful mask. “Yes I have a house in Markarth.” 

 

Runa giggled happily, Markarth was as far way from Riften as one could get! “That’s great! I’ll grab my things and meet you there!”  

 

Watching as that careful mask shattered as Loramia leaned her back against the wall and her palm met her face with a loud  _ smack!  _ As her other hand fisted itself and slammed against the wall, rattling the shelves. Watching with a raised eyebrow Runa stared at her new mother as she worked through some sort of breathing exercise. After a few minutes Loramia ran the hand over her face and through her long black hair. 

 

“How about: you grab your things, say goodbye to your friends and meet me by the stables.” 

 

The way Loramia said it, it sounded less like a request and more like something that  _ was going to happen.  _ Whether Runa wanted it to or not. 

 

Runa gave the High Elf a winning smile. Because you know what, she got what she wanted! 

 

“Alright mama!  **I promise I’ll be the best daughter ever.”**

 

Loramia felt a sudden foreboding feeling crawl up her spine. She sincerely hoped she didn’t just get a saber tooth and put it with a group of elk. 


End file.
